


in a phrase to cut these lips: i love you

by renhyuck (thereisnoreality)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Codependency, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, idk how to tag this fic, it's rated m cause its lowkey creepy not for anything else, lowkey sociopathy, mention of a murder but it's not like...really involved in the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 13:51:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16811902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereisnoreality/pseuds/renhyuck
Summary: Donghyuck’s mouth tilts up into a smile, but it’s not a nice one. “You know everything about me, don’t you Renjun Huang?”Renjun smiles back. It’s not a nice one. “Only a fool would ever assume he knew everything about you Donghyuck Lee.”





	in a phrase to cut these lips: i love you

**Author's Note:**

> this is a weird one. even i'm not sure what this is. i started the night out writing a hayley kiyoko mv inspired fic and it spiraled into this...
> 
> go listen to anything the civil wars ever wrote while listening to this fic, it sets the mood perfectly. i'd recommend barton hollow and falling.
> 
> also this was written in less than three hours so i'm sure there's mistakes

It’s push and pull. It always is between them. It’s walking the tightrope with no net underneath, with no knowledge of what’s on the other side. It’s signing your heart away without knowing the terms you’re agreeing to. It’s terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

∞

Renjun always picks Donghyuck up on the way to college. His car, an secondhand Beetle, bright blue and big enough to fit his and Donghyuck’s bags in the backseat, was a birthday gift from an estranged uncle that he hadn’t spoken to since he was ten. His mother had pursed her lips at it, before stubbing her cigarette out under her white pumps and telling Renjun he could take it or sell it. His father had no opinion but that was because he was dead, so Renjun’s not too mad about his silence.

He keeps it, obviously. The car isn’t worth much so there’s no use in selling it, but it more than makes up for the lack of money in what it brings to a teenager in a sleepy town. The first drive he’d gone on in the car was with Donghyuck, only to discover that same night, that a Beetle was not big enough to make out in without getting major cramps. All in all, a useful night to figure out he had a useless car.

Renjun stares out the passenger window and shoots another text to Donghyuck. Two minutes pass with no answer. Renjun sighs and checks his phone. It’s a thirty minute drive to their college, they’re going to be late. He honks, one short, sharp sound and as if by magic, the front door bangs open and Donghyuck runs out, coat on one arm, backpack dangling from the other, shoes clutched in his hand.

“Did you oversleep again?” Renjun asks exasperatedly as he watches Donghyuck fling his backpack into the back.

“Sorry,” Donghyuck grins at him. It’s beautiful, as it always is but Renjun’s too annoyed about being late to his lecture for the third time that week to care. He just sighs and pulls away from the driveway, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. Twenty eight minutes.

Donghyuck seems to pick up on his mood and he doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the ride, only humming along to the radio under his breath. The radio plays news about forest fires the whole way there.

It’s only when they’re about to part ways for class on campus, with two minutes left for Renjun to make it to class, that Donghyuck grabs Renjun’s wrist and tugs him back.

“Don’t be mad, I’m sorry,” he whispers kissing Renjun’s cheek, arm wrapped around his waist. The heat from his body curls into Renjun, makes him break out in goosebumps.

“I’m not mad,” Renjun murmurs, blinking at a pouting Donghyuck. He gently tugs his arm out of his hold. “‘I’ve got to go, I’m going to be late.”

It’s always push and pull between them. The problem is, Renjun doesn’t know who’s pushing and who’s pulling at this point.

∞

Donghyuck loves Renjun, he knows this much. He might not know a lot about himself, about what he wants or what he’s going to do in the future, but he knows that Renjun is a constant. It scares him more than he can verbalise, to look into Renjun’s dark, knowing eyes and know that he’s going to be there forever. Unless Donghyuck gives him a reason otherwise.

But Donghyuck hates constants. Hates feeling stagnant and held down. He’s lived in the same town, in the same house, with the same friends, since the beginning of high school and it’s starting to get to him. Starting to itch and tug under his skin, starting to make him want to leave. Leave everything and everyone behind, including Renjun. If only he could.

∞

Renjun meets up with Donghyuck for coffee on a windy Wednesday afternoon. It’s threatening to rain, the clouds dark overhead, but Donghyuck insists on sitting outside, in the rickety, rusted chairs, drawing his coat in around him as the cold wind whips past them.

“If my backpack gets wet, I’m going to kill you,” Renjun scowls, tucking the little lavender bag under his feet. He’d brought all his sketchbooks with him to amass a portfolio for his professor to assess and he’s going to commit murder if even a drop of water gets on them.

“I’ll protect you and your paintings,” Donghyuck waves this away, sipping at his coffee and watching the people pass them by. Renjun watches him watch everything else and traces the star patterned moles on his neck and cheeks, follows the slope of his nose, counts his eyelashes. Renjun could draw Donghyuck blindfolded but it never hurts to refresh his memory.

Donghyuck turns to look at him and tilts his head in silent question when Renjun doesn’t say anything. “Do you ever think of moving away?” Donghyuck asks, still staring at Renjun. There’s a strange light in his eyes, one that scares Renjun a little, but also makes his fingers itch for his sketchbook. Donghyuck is, as ever, an easily solvable enigma. Renjun could draw him a thousand times, _has_ drawn him a thousand times, and he could never perfectly capture Donghyuck in a painting. Not unless Donghyuck himself wanted to be caught.

“Sometimes,” Renjun says, thinking of his cold house, with his distant mother and a dead father. With an empty room gathering dust, with old suits still not thrown away. With the faint whispers of a ghost hovering in every corner. A ghost he’s responsible for.

“I do,” Donghyuck says, propping his chin on his hands. He still hasn’t looked away. Renjun stares right back at him, not giving in. Push and pull, a constant tug of war.

“I know.”

Donghyuck’s mouth tilts up into a smile, but it’s not a nice one. “You know everything about me, don’t you Renjun Huang?”

Renjun smiles back. It’s not a nice one. “Only a fool would ever assume he knew everything about you Donghyuck Lee.”

He’s lying.

∞

Renjun has a secret. Everyone does. Secrets are like weeds, they pop up unannounced and they don’t ever really go away. Not even if you try everything to remove them. Renjun’s secret is a bit different from most people’s. He doesn’t want to brag or anything, but he’s sure it’s a secret that very few people in the world can lay claim to. Donghyuck is the only one who knows his secret. Sometimes, Renjun thinks his mother might. He sees the look in her eyes when she glances at him, sees the way her fingers tremble as she reaches for another cigarette, but it doesn’t really bother him. If she really knew, she’d have done something years ago. Or maybe not. She always was a coward.

Donghyuck knows because he is the one person who understands Renjun. Who knows what it feels like to have an emptiness in your chest so wide and gaping, you’re afraid it’ll consume you one day. Donghyuck understands but he doesn’t relate. Because Donghyuck, unlike Renjun, doesn’t have any secrets. He tells the world everything, exposes his whole life in every word he speaks, but it’s hidden under layers of charm and wit and puzzles and riddles. Covered so deeply beneath the surface that no one really understands him at all. An enigma to everyone else but Renjun.

∞

They’re at an art show. It’s class credit for Renjun to show up because his paintings are being displayed and Donghyuck tags along, claiming boredom. The gallery is full of self-important people who have delusions about being actually important, a couple of his professors and many, many bored students.

Renjun makes small talk for a good hour with the deluded ones, smiling faintly at the casual racism thrown his way. He doesn’t bother reprimanding them. Sheep will be sheep, after all, and in a small town in the middle of nowhere America, the sheep tend to be especially thick skulled.

Donghyuck disappears ten minutes in and Renjun lets him go. There’s no point in making him stay by Renjun’s side for comfort. Donghyuck would just laugh in his face and direct another old white couple’s attention to him.

He finally finds Donghyuck staring at his paintings, twirling a champagne flute in his hand, otherwise unmoving. Renjun comes up next to him and tilts his head in the same fashion Donghyuck is, trying to see if he can see his paintings through Donghyuck’s eyes.

  
There’s two of them hanging there, both with a shiny plaque reading his name under them and carrying between them one secret hiding in plain view.

“Brave of you,” Donghyuck says and there’s a note of laughter in his voice. “To put that up there.”

He tips his empty glass at the painting of himself, caught mid laugh, head thrown back, eyes shining, the moonlight casting an unearthly glow above him. Renjun remembers precisely what he’d said to make Donghyuck laugh so hard.

He hums. “I much prefer the other one, actually.”

Donghyuck eyes the black canvas, at the center of which sits a lit cigarette above a freshly unearthed pile of dirt. “It’s a bit too subtle for me,” he sighs, mocking and dark, pressing his shoulder into Renjun’s.

“Maybe you don’t understand the true meaning,” Renjun says lightly, plucking the glass from his hand and placing it on a passing waiter’s tray.

“Meaning?” Donghyuck asks, turning to look at him, eyebrow arched. “What deeper meaning could there possibly be?” His voice sings of laughter, of unspoken secrets, of long forgotten graves.

“Maybe you don’t know me,” Renjun shrugs, turning as well. They’re inches apart, far too close for a fancy art gallery. Already he can hear scandalised whispers. Funny. He didn’t think sheep could talk.

Donghyuck leans in, smiling. “Oh, I know you,” he whispers, a funny light in his eyes. “I know you better than anyone.”

Renjun leans in as well, bringing his hand up to cover Donghyuck’s, letting his fingers stroke over the scars on the back of his knuckles. Donghyuck shivers and Renjun smiles, pleased. “Only a fool, Donghyuck,” he reminds him. “Only a fool.”

∞

Donghyuck is an enigma to everyone but Renjun. To Renjun, he is boring. Not in the emotional sense, because there’s really no one that lights the sparks in Renjun’s heart, lights him on fire in the way that Donghyuck does. But his existence is boring. He has ideas, fantasies of running away to foreign lands, over the ocean, into the clouds, as if that will make him less dull, but Renjun knows it won’t. Donghyuck is consigned to this one life, this boring, meaningless life, on a boring, meaningless planet, and he knows it too. And he hates it.

∞

Donghyuck hangs up on the call, heart pounding in double time. His brother had asked him to come to Korea to stay with him, to go to his university with him, to get away from here. Donghyuck shakes in quiet exhilaration. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt like this. He opens his laptop and thumbs to university’s page, clicks on the online application and stares at the apply button in trepidation.

A chance away. To get out of this town and out of this life. He’d be a fool not to take it. Renjun’s face flashes into his mind, eyes dark and knowing, mouth twisted into a mocking smirk.

Donghyuck clicks the button.

∞

Donghyuck holds a secret. It’s not his own, he has none of his own, but it belongs to someone precious to him, so he holds the secret close to his heart, presses it to his chest and lets it listen to every flicker in his heartbeat.

Renjun tells him his secret at the end of their second year in high school. Donghyuck is just starting to get bored of this town, of these people, of himself really. So he follows Renjun out to the graveyard at the edge of town, listening to him speak, taking in the way he says everything measuredly, as if reciting a poem, because there’s nothing else to do and Renjun is possibly the only mildly interesting thing left.

They come to a stop at the last grave in the last row, shadowed by the large trees around it, dark and alone. Renjun finishes talking and Donghyuck eyes him.

“Why’d you tell me that,” he asks. His heart is beating a little faster. For the first time in two years, he isn’t bored. For the first time in two years, life isn’t dull.

Renjun shrugs, toeing at the grass. “I wanted to see how you’d react,” he says, watching Donghyuck through his bangs. His eyes are endlessly dark and he hasn’t looked away from Donghyuck’s face since he’d started speaking. Donghyuck’s heart picks up in tempo and he laughs. Throws his head back and giggles wildly, lets it echo in the stillness of the night.

“Is that the only reason?” He laughs. “That you were bored?”

“Seemed as good a reason as any,” Renjun shrugs but he’s smirking now and it spurs Donghyuck on.

Donghyuck walks towards him, presses into his space, pushing until Renjun ends up with his back against the tree and leans in. “Does anyone else know?” He asks, breathless. Finally, something exciting.

Renjun shakes his head. “You’re the only one.”

The only one in the world to carry his secret. Donghyuck savours the words, lets them dance across his skin. The only one. It makes him feel special. Donghyuck smiles and leans closer still. Renjun doesn’t move back, doesn’t push him away, only watches him with those dark, dark eyes.

Donghyuck lets out one last little laugh and crushes his mouth against Renjun’s. The only noise Renjun makes is a muffled gasp as he kisses back. His arms loop around Donghyuck’s neck, pulling him as close as he can, until their chests are flush against each other and Donghyuck can feel his heartbeat, steady as ever.

Donghyuck kisses Renjun until his lips go numb and his heartbeat gets too fast to be safe. He kisses Renjun like it's the last time he’ll ever do so, with his arms tight around his waist, thumbs skating over his skin, pressing Renjun so hard against the bark, he’s sure it hurts.

He kisses Renjun for the first time in the silver moonlight, against the tree that spills shadows endlessly over his father’s grave, with the remnants of his laughter still hanging in the air.

∞

Donghyuck has a secret. Renjun knows it just by watching him and it’s so obvious because a person like Donghyuck doesn’t keep secrets. They broadcast their lives to the world and dare the world to say something about it. Donghyuck doesn’t know how to keep a secret, not like Renjun does and Renjun can tell immediately. He’s twitchy and paranoid and he avoids Renjun’s gaze too much.

Renjun doesn’t prod him about it. There’s nothing worse than asking Donghyuck a straight question, he simply shrivels up and refuses to say anything useful. A person like Donghyuck swims in riddles, in dancing sentences, in words dripping so thickly in honey, you won’t be able to taste the poison underneath until it’s far too late.

  
Renjun lets it be. There’s not much Donghyuck can do that will surprise him anyway.

(He’s wrong.)

∞

Donghyuck’s scared. Not because of Renjun, never because of that, but because of the look in his eyes. They’re sad. He doesn’t remember the last time he saw Renjun sad. He doesn’t know if he ever has.

“You want to leave, then go,” Renjun says and his voice is dead, cold. The letter sits there, between them on the bed, the embossed letters gleaming in the cold afternoon light. Clouds move across the bedroom window, darkening the room. “Just do me the basic courtesy of letting me know you were done with me while you were still in the country.”

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Donghyuck thinks. His heart is beating too fast, too hard and he can’t think. It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

“You don’t understand,” he starts and his hands start to shake.

“Really?” Renjun look up at him, and plucks the letter from the bed. “We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Seoul National University for next fall.” He reads out in a flat tone. The letter flutters back onto the bed. “Tell me what it is about that, that I couldn’t possibly understand.”

Donghyuck swallows. “I don’t know if I’m going to go at all, it was just a split second decision.”

“That you didn’t tell me about.”

“ _Renjun_ ,” Donghyuck says helplessly. He doesn’t know how to explain, how to put into words what had been going through his head when he filled out the application. He doesn’t know how to tell Renjun that being here, in this town, in this college, seeing the same things everyday, is fit to drive him mad. He wants to tear his hair out and scream, to feel something other than boredom but he can’t, he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know how to explain that life has lost its colour, that everything that was once sharp has been dulled away, has become gray to his eyes. He wants to beg, for the first time his life, wants to beg Renjun to understand.

Renjun meets his eyes. “It doesn’t matter to me that you want to go to another university, even one that’s across the world. It doesn’t matter to me that you want to leave. What matters,” he sighs and looks down and that’s when Donghyuck knows this is beyond something he can fix with a cheek kiss or a smile, because Renjun never breaks eye contact, not when he’s speaking to someone important, not when he has something important to say. It had been one of the things that had first drawn Donghyuck to him in the first place. That in a dusty old town full of people going through the motions as if they were mere puppets on a string, there was one boy who said what he thought and did what he wanted with conviction and emotion. That he looked you in the eyes when he spoke and meant every word of it, even when it was the worst thing he could say.

Renjun takes a shuddering breath and Donghyuck’s heart shatters in the next second. “What matters to me is that you didn’t tell me any of it.”

“I meant to,” Donghyuck says, desperate, because Renjun has to understand, has to know. “I wasn’t going to- to leave without telling you.”

Renjun looks at him, eyes cold and dead. “Thanks for that,” he says. “Guess you’re spared the trouble now.” He hands the letter to Donghyuck, careful not to touch him and Donghyuck’s chest tightens, to the point that he’s not sure he can breathe. His heart stops beating.

“Renjun-”

“I always knew you wanted to leave,” Renjun cuts across him. “I’m not stupid, you know. I always knew you were going to go someday, run away somewhere I couldn’t follow. But I always thought you’d tell me first.” He laughs, sharp and bitter and Donghyuck can’t tear his eyes away from him. “I guess I was wrong. You were right, I don’t know you at all.”

Donghyuck stares unseeing at the bed, as Renjun quietly slips out of the room, and before the door closes behind him, there’s a quiet sharp intake of breath, like a prelude to a sob, before it’s cut off and Donghyuck finally lets the tears spill over.

∞

Renjun takes his car with the bag he’d stolen from his mother’s bedroom closet, the bag she thinks he knows nothing about and drives to the edge of the town. He walks to his father’s grave for the first time in four years, for the first time since he’d told his secret to one person, and drops the bag on the ground, uncaring of the way the bottles clang dangerously together.

There he sits, leaning against the very trunk he’d had first kiss against and pops open a bottle and takes a long swig, wincing at the burn that travels down his throat.

It’s his fault, really. He’d gotten too complacent, had trusted Donghyuck too much. He’d forgotten what he’d swore he’d never forget when he and Donghyuck first started doing whatever it is that they did. That Donghyuck Lee was an endless cave, dull and boring, but just tempting enough to draw him in and swallow him forever. That their… relationship, was temporary. That it was never meant to last.

Renjun bites down on his bottom lip, pushes the ache in his chest deep, deep down and takes another drink. He is a fool to have thought any different. He is a fool to have hoped.

It takes Donghyuck an hour to find him. Renjun has to give him credit. The graveyard is a thirty minute walk from the center of town and Donghyuck lives all the way in the opposite direction. It takes Donghyuck an hour to find him and in that hour, Renjun is already halfway to being drunk.

“Renjun,” Donghyuck says, and Renjun hums in acknowledgment, not tearing his eyes away from his father’s grave. Donghyuck tentatively sinks down next to him. “You don’t drink,” he states.

Renjun snorts. “First time for everything, I suppose.” He scoots away from Donghyuck, closer to his father’s headstone. Donghyuck follows, careful in a way he’s never been before. Renjun hates it.

“Did you drive here?” Donghyuck asks. It’s a pointless question, he must have seen Renjun’s car as he walked up here.

“Don’t worry,” Renjun laughs, sharp and angry. “I only started drinking after I got here.”

Out of the corner of his eye he can see Donghyuck purse his lips and duck his head. Renjun’s chest twinges.

“I wanted to-” Donghyuck starts but Renjun cuts him off. He’s not ready to hear Donghyuck’s explanation which he’s sure is perfectly crafted after three days of silence.

“My father was an asshole,” he sighs, tipping the last of the drink into his mouth. He considers the empty bottle, glinting in the fading light before flinging it at the headstone. It shatters on impact and glass flies everywhere. Donghyuck doesn’t flinch and Renjun’s inordinately pleased. “He was an asshole and deserved everything he got.”

“I know,” Donghyuck says and Renjun laughs again, fumbling for another bottle.

“You do, don’t you?” He agrees in a singsong voice. “Donghyuck Lee knows everything about me.”

“Not everything,” Donghyuck protests, making a faint noise as Renjun takes another drink. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

Renjun swivels to face him for the first time, and peers at him through blurry eyes. “Why do you care?” He asks coldly and Donghyuck winces.

“I do care,” he whispers and his hand comes up to pry the bottle from Renjun’s hand. Renjun lets him take it. He’s well on his way to being drunk already. “I care because I love you.”

“We have very different definitions of love, then,” Renjun says, turning his hand in Donghyuck’s to observe the scars scattered across his knuckles. Donghyuck makes a pained noise.

“It was a mistake,” Donghyuck says. “I should have told you.”

Renjun hums. “You should have. But you didn’t.” He giggles at a sudden thought that pops into his mind. “My secret keeper kept a secret from me.” He giggles harder at the way Donghyuck’s eyes widen, at the way his hand tightens around Renjun’s.

Renjun sits up on his knees and leans forwards, swaying, into Donghyuck’s space. “Shall I tell you a secret?” He sings mockingly, cupping his hands around Donghyuck’s neck, running his thumbs along his jaw. Donghyuck’s pulse jumps under his hands.“My darling Donghyuck, shall I tell you my most dangerous secret?”

Donghyuck swallows and for the first time, he looks afraid. Renjun drinks it in, pleased. Donghyuck’s eyes are ever so wide. “You already did. Don’t you remember? It was right here, in this same spot.”

Renjun ignores him and presses forward until he’s leaning all his weight on Donghyuck, leaning above him. Donghyuck’s head is tilted back to stare into his eyes. Renjun smiles, and moves in until his lips are brushing Donghyuck’s with every breath he takes. “My secret,” he whispers and lets out a little giggle. “Is that I killed-”

Donghyuck shoves him, sends him flat on his back on the packed ground, knocks the air from his lungs and in the next second, is above him, kissing him. Renjun gasps, his arms automatically coming around Donghyuck as Donghyuck kisses him hard, crushes his mouth against his, and tugs on Renjun’s hair, pulling him closer. The broken glass digs into his back, into his neck, cutting the skin open but Renjun doesn’t care, not when he has Donghyuck like this, above him, kissing him so desperately, it feels like he’s fit to explode.

“Don’t say it out loud,” Donghyuck snarls, eyes wide, his knees bracketing Renjun’s waist. Renjun considers him like this, hovering over Renjun with his palms flat on either side of Renjun’s head, wild eyed and hair tousled. He’s the most beautiful thing Renjun’s ever seen. “Once was enough,” Donghyuck whispers harshly, leaning in close to Renjun again, eyes flicking over his face desperately, as if trying to memorise every dip and curve. “Don’t ever say it out loud again. Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” Renjun agrees and pulls him back down for a bruising kiss.

It’s oddly poetic that he’s come full circle like this, four years later, kissing his lover on top of his father’s grave.

∞

It’s two months later and they haven’t spoken about Donghyuck leaving but Renjun has resigned himself to it. Because Donghyuck is predictably boring, because he will always seek the new and exciting not realising that everything will inevitably lose its shine anyway. It’s two months later when Donghyuck finally brings it up.

“I’m not going.”

Renjun cranes his neck to look at him. They’re in Donghyuck’s bedroom, lying on his bed and Donghyuck had spent the last thirty minutes playing with Renjun’s fingers, his head on Renjun’s chest. It’s oddly intimate for the two of them. “Why?” He asks. “You hate it here.”

Donghyuck hums. “I do,” he agrees. “But I love you more, so I can wait.”

“Don’t confuse love for sentiment,” Renjun says harshly because he can’t go through it again. If Donghyuck decides to leave again, Renjun won’t stop him, but he won’t be able to handle it either. It’s probably not a very healthy thought but then again, Renjun’s not exactly the poster boy for mental health.

Donghyuck laughs and picks his head up to look Renjun in the eye. “You’re mine,” he breathes, pulling his hands away from Renjun’s fingers to slide them down his side and clutch at his waist, holding him close to Donghyuck. “You’re mine. That’s why I’m not leaving. Because you’re mine and I don’t think I could leave you behind even if I tried.”

“You did try,” Renjun points out, staring back at him. He’s breathless with Donghyuck this close to him. It doesn't matter though, that Donghyuck had tried to leave. He's inexplicably tied to Renjun, in all the ways that matter and Renjun can't ever let him go. 

Donghyuck’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Say it,” he whispers. “Say you’re mine.”

“You’re mine,” Renjun says, gazing at Donghyuck and Donghyuck kisses him. Throws his knee over Renjun’s waist and pushes him against the bed and kisses him, again and again and again until he’s gasping into the space between their lips. “You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine.”

Donghyuck makes a pleased noise and presses into him harder, licking into his mouth, kissing him hard and bruising, until every nerve ending in Renjun is singing out for him, singing a beautiful broken tune, singing _mine, mine, mine._

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you thought, it's my first time writing a kind of dark fic, i wanna know how i did!
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/_donghyuck_)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/hyxcheis)  
> [if you like my work and would like to support me!](https://ko-fi.com/hyxcheis)


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